Dear Diary …
Now that I’ve been raising kids for a couple years … I’ve learned one thing above all else … old me is dead. Now I’m not saying it’s necessarily a good thing or a bad thing … it’s just a different thing. Meaning … “Old Me” … the one that played video games for hours, went out drinkin’ and eatin’ all the time, slept till noon … Yeah … he’s dead.
And you could probably argue that ”new me” is a lot better in a lot of ways by not doing those things. And it probably is … though that doesn’t mean I don’t miss old me from time to time (all the time) … I mean every now and then.
The wacky thing about “new me,” is that I’m not just one person.
I’m not just Dad … As far as the children are concerned, I’m a cast of characters … and weird ones too … like the kinds you see at the Circus sideshow …
[[[Circus Music]]
Hurry hurry hurry … step right up! Ladies and gentleman … boys and girls … people of ALL ages … Come with your own eyes and witness the wonder of the world … the freak of the family … … the servant of the shelter … the parent of tiny children!
Yep … welcome to the circus. Cuz I’m not just me … I’m a collection of sideshow characters. For example … I’m The Human Remote Control …
The children tell me “It’s my turn to pick out a show” … and then it’s time for the human remote control to get to work. I stand there, while they just bark orders at me while I scroll through the menus of their crappy little television shows. And they flip their little hands in the air … bossin’ me around …
“Go that way. No … the other way! Go back. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
For the love of God pick out a show!
And my son is the worst, at least my daughter has a pretty good idea of what she wants to watch. I find it … and she watches it.
Meanwhile, he’s three, so the names of things in his head aren’t what they are in real life.
First of all … we start with “I wanna watch Snowflarx!”
Do you know what that is, Diary? That’s Netflix. I figured that out the hard way as he kept yelling about “Snowflarx!” until I got it right. Problem is … once we get to Snowflarx, now he just says things like “I wanna watch ‘The real Mickey Halloween one.’”
And do you know what that is? Me neither! Because I showed him every freakin’ Mickey Halloween thing we had .. and he didn’t want any of those. No idea what he’s talking about. Eventually I just hit play on something and walk away so he can whine about it on his own.
OK … it doesn’t stop there … the cast of characters continues because I am also The Human Menu when it comes to the world of snacks. I will say this … my son is at least cute about it when he starts. Yesterday he says to me …
“Daddy … does we have snacks?”
Well yes, we have snacks.
“Does we have snacks for boys that are healthy?”
Sure … we have snacks for boys that are healthy. What snack do you want? And here’s where it takes a turn …
“What do we have?”
You know what we have! We go thru this conversation five times a day. It’s the same stuff as the last time. But they don’t wanna tell you what they want. They want The Human Menu to rattle them all off so they can shoot you down over and over again.
We have apples. No.
Banana. No
Strawberry. No
Chex mix. No
Pretzles. No
Popcorn. No.
Oh my God just tell me what you want!!!
You know how they say you spend half your life sleeping and pooping? Well I spend the other half just standing in the pantry acting like a menu.
OK finally, above all else, at the end of the day, I’ve learned that I am The Human Garbage Can.
Because once my son finally picked his snack … cheese stick by the way … he sat there with that thing in his sweaty little hand … smooshing it all around while he’s eating it. Cuz kids are disgusting when they eat food.
Finally he gets his fill, and there’s still this slimy little nubbin’ of cheese stick left. To which he looks at, “Ew … That’s asgusting” And promptly tosses it in my lap.
Oh thank you your Royal Highness! Thanks you for bestowing upon me Ye Royal Saliva and Cheese Leavins! So gross he doesn’t wanna touch it … but The Human Garbage Can is here for his disposal.
Yep … “old me” … dead.
R.I.P. Old Me.
Miss you … bunches.
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye